Wind: A Jake the Hunter Episode
by T.R. Page
Summary: One of the first solo Jake the Hunter adventures - prior to his return to Chance Harbor. A small Minnesota town and a mid-western Circle of witches present Jake with a challenge that may be more than both he and the Hunters expected. *Reviews are always welcome.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from any characters or stories written within the Secret Circle universe._

**Wind: **_Part 1_

The Hunters had rented the apartment above the theater for his stay in Odina, it was the tallest building and it offered him a clear view of both Main Street and a crow's nest look out over the surrounding prairie. There were very few buildings in Odina, main street was a two way with one light and roughly five shops on each side. Homes were the main buildings here; lush trees hid many from view. A river cut through the town and Jake had wondered about getting a fishing license during his stay. He wasn't sure how far his alias would protect his identity, so he had put off getting it out of fear of exposure. There didn't appear to be anyone aware of his presence, and certainly no Witch was sniffing his trail. He would have felt or seen some evidence if someone was close to him or his activity. He had placed several cantrips around the theater that would have triggered had a Witch walked near or over them. Nothing had come from them so far. So if there were Witches in town they hadn't been to the movies recently.

Jake sat watching the flow of traffic from the top of the five story buidling. The sky was beginning to darken with the smell and promise of rain, with it a cool wind fought through the humidity and the summer heat of a Midwestern July. Tornado weather. Jake had been here now for two months, it seemed the small town of Odina, Minnesota had very little Witch activity. Not enough to warrant the presence or surveillance of a Witch Hunter.

Isaac wanted him here. Three cars had passed beneath his gaze in the last hour, Sunday traffic on Odina's main street. Why Isaac wanted him here he wasn't completely sure. The man who had ushered Jake into the Hunters usually offered Jake the interesting jobs first. This one didn't seem to fit the bill. Jake had posted updates of his surveillance and his daily routine into his journal, and couldn't wait for Isaac to read his Odina exploits upon his return to the group.

Most businesses were closed on Sunday, which meant the little town with a population of 3000 was the definition of "sleepy". The only things to do were head over to the library or catch a movie at the single screen Highlight Theatre, upon whose roof he now stood. Jake zipped up his dark jacket, took one more look beyond the unlit neon swept sign of the theaters marquee and down to the empty street. The library it is.

o0o

"Licentia Vacuus Admonitio."

At the exit that opened into the alley on the north side of the theatre Jake whispered the spell that would warn him if anyone entered while he was gone. The alley took him to Main Street and he turned left, a few blocks down was the county library. Jake guessed that the library and county courthouse were built at the same time, both seemed to be constructed of the same gray granite and the architecture, Athenian and Greco, was similar.

"Mr. Liten." Jake was walking slowly up the steps that led into the main section of the library when he heard his name...or at least the alias he was using.

"Hi, Mrs...,' he acted as though he couldn't place her name. Of course he knew it he however was supposed to be playing the part of a college student on summer vacation. He shifted the weight of the backpack he wore over to his left shoulder.

"Erickson." The elderly librarian offered.

Jake smiled, "Sorry, I'm not good with names." He made to continue up the stairs toward the main floor.

"I've got a book you may find helpful for your research."

"Oh, that's great. I'll stop by your desk when I'm finished. Unless it's on the shelf?"

"No, I kept it for you. I'll be running around for awhile. I should be at my desk in about fifteen minutes. We may be closing early today due to the storm coming. Looks like a tornado maybe."

He thanked her and threw her another smile before continuing toward the main floor.

o0o

Jake kept his head down. After gathering a few books in the finance and economic section, selections that pertained to his fake research topic, Local Renaissance Monetary Systems, he sat down near the wall of windows and stayed quiet. The windows rose from floor to ceiling and gave him a view of the many trees planted between Main Street and the libraries steep steps. His gaze went to the street where a car passed, and Chance Harbor came to mind. It was perpetually cloudy in the small harbor community, and the heavy deep blue clouds reminded him of his wet home that always smelled like rain. Studying was never his strong suit, but a few hours in the Harbors library was a mandatory student requirement. He and Nick sometimes went together.

He hoped Nick wasn't following in his brothers footsteps, or living in the shadows of his actions at home. Perhaps one of these days he'd be able to get home and see how Nick was doing. And if he had realized his power.

Jake got up. He left his backpack and the books behind. Taking a walk through the library was his way of looking like a student, and he liked to see who else was there. More so he wanted to keep an eye on the Occult and Religious sections. He never walked into them, but merely walked by to see if anyone sat in or near the section. He had also marked a few of the books; a few of the advanced and hard to get tomes with an electronic stamp that would allow him to track who had taken them.

He stepped down the small three step rise that led to the sunken reading section of the Humanities collection of books. Computers lined the left wall and about ten book shelves took up the area. In the center of the shelves, splitting them, were two couches, flat and simple out of the sixties and a table.

Before he passed the table he could see that one of the books he had tagged was there, open. He didn't glance at it. A paper coffee cup lay near it as well. Jake thought maybe whoever was reading was still interested in doing more and he didn't want to appear nosey. Jake decided to walk to the rear of the shelves and past the line of computers. He came to the wall and turned, looking at the bit of paper he had in his hand, wanting to look like he was looking for the right order of numbers and letters. Coming to the Occult section, he didn't see anyone. At the drinking fountain he stopped and ran it a few moments. Odina had notoriously bad water, so he leaned over and made sure to keep his lips a few centimeters from the off-color stream.

Walking a bit further he moved toward the right side of the section, looking down each row as he went along then to his blank piece of paper. Someone was sitting on one of the couches. A girl. Brunette wearing an orange striped sweater. He took a deep breath as he reached the right side wall. Moving slowly along the last of the shelves, between it and the wall, he wondered if he should look at her, say hello, or just keep his head down. He chose to look, and when she looked up and gave him a half smile, he couldn't help but reply with his own.

He didn't sense anything from her, but power, a Witches power, was sometimes masked or could be to weak to grasp, or just unnoticeable. When he got back to his backpack he gathered two of the books, then slung the bag over his left shoulder. Jake noticed that outside the trees were really moving. The leafy tops were whipping and shaking, it nearly made him dizzy looking down at them, the ground seemed to be undulating. The sky was black, and the few white clouds beneath the dark sky seemed close enough to touch, they moved in an odd and fast way. Maybe that tornado was coming.

o0o

"Do you have that book?" Jake asked when he reached the main desk that couldn't be avoided before taking the steps down toward the libraries entrance.

"Right here. You want to get those two?" Mrs. Erickson looked to the books he set on the counter.

Jake nodded. As though in response he heard a large crack of thunder. The lights immediately went out. At two in the afternoon the library went dark. Jake guessed that the sun must be completely blotted out. The only source of light once Jake's eyes adjusted to the darkness was the blue purple glow coming from the windows. Beyond the shaking glass he could see a swirling mass of heavy clouds that Jake had no doubt couldn't stay afloat any longer.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from anything within the Secret Circle universe._

Wind: Part II

Jake was led to the basement. The old librarian, Mrs. Erickson, told him the story of her first tornado experience after working in the library for a few years. Jake wasn't paying attention, but the story involved a clown and a magician from a traveling carnival.

He followed in the wake of her overpowering perfume, down a series of rubber edged cement steps, around a few corners, down and down. No matter how far, Jake could still hear the wind outside and rain that hit with hurricane force.

Finally they stepped onto level cement, a hallway, leading to a single door. The only light present was above the door shining within a metal cage. The door was open, and once they reached it the librarian allowed Jake in first. The door shut behind him, and the window in the door that was lit from the light outside in the hallway went dark.

"Oh, my! We must of lost power," Mrs. Erickson bumped into him.

It took a minute for Jake's eyes to adjust to the blackness before he realized that it wasn't completely dark. Candle light flickered ahead of him. Five people stood among metal support beams, a candle in each of their cupped hands.

Jake felt that nudge again in his back, pushing him forward. " What's your real name, Mr. Liten?"

"What do you mean?" Jake asked.

"We can see that you're a Witch, Mr. Liten. We just don't know why you're in Odina." It was the man in the group speaking, bald and middle aged.

A woman with long blond hair splayed over her shoulders and smaller than the rest stepped forward. "I told you he's more than a Witch, the Runes said he hides something, chaos dwells in him." She came within a few feet of Jake. " He looks for something."

"Yeah, books." Jake said. "This is the library isn't it?" Jake tried to look innocent but he feared that his facade was torn to bits.

"The something he's looking for is us, I can smell it on him, ' it was the librarian behind him. "I've been telling you, he's a Hunter..."

Glass shattered behind them, the door flew open and thundering against the wall. A gust of wind came with the ruckus taking Jake off his feet, blowing out the candles and splattering hot wax over those that held them. On his feet in an instant, Jake was left in utter darkness.

"Don't let him..." Before the librarian could finish, Jake heard the crunching of bone and her sentence ended with a scream.

A hand around his forearm made Jake twist to face its owner. He couldn't see, the dark was more than an absence of light, it was magic. Jake was going to remove some of the dark, but before he could a voice told him to follow, unless he wanted to be buried with the Witches.

Jake took the hand, a small fragile hand, and he was lead to the basments entrance. Glass crunched under his heels, and hers. Jake guessed his savior was a woman, a girl. When they reached the stairs at the end of the hallway a light flared behind them.

"Don't stop!"

He was glad he didn't. As they rounded the corner running up the stairs, something heavy and flaming slammed into the wall behind them.

"At least they lit up the stairs for us." Jake said. He finally could see whose hand he held. The girl in the orange and black striped sweater. He let go of her hand, but continued to follow, as he took the stairs as fast as the girl dictated, which wasn't fast enough in his opinion.

"Where are we going? And what's going on?" He thought he'd try to play stupid. Maybe she hadn't heard the conversation.

"Hold my hand,' she lifted her hand to him pausing on the stairs. When Jake took it, she took a few running steps, the third came off the stairs and Jake knew then that the darkness in the basement was her creation. Jake felt his feet leave the stairs as he felt his hand vibrate in hers. The stairs went by beneath them faster than Jake, or anyone, could ever take them. They were at the stairwell entrance in the blink of an eye.

Behind them they heard a scream.

"They created this storm, in order to trap you in the basement." The girl yelled above the force of the storm that had invaded the library. Jake was trying to push a book of shelves across the door. "Use your magic; I know you're a Witch."

Jake not only got the book shelf in place, but from across the room he pulled a desk, then another, and one more just because he could. Magic made it all, it made everything, easier. He took the girls hand and with the added current of power they not only stacked the others before the door, but entangled them into each other; the wall, the door - it was all a giant mess of metal and wood, hard edges and splintered wood.

"We need somewhere else to go. This storm isn't going to stop soon."

Pulled out of the ether of magic and power that sizzled in his blood, Jake realized that she was screaming, though her words could barely be heard over the torrent of wind and rain buffeting them. He looked around and noticed that the library may have to consider going digital. Books, and pages from books, littered every inch of the library, great swaths of paper caught in whirlwinds shifted through the library. The huge windows, where Jake would sit were no more.

"How are you that strong?" Jake let down his guard, he was a Witch and she knew it. Whoever she was she was more powerful than anything or anyone he had previously encountered.

"Not now!" She yelled at him. Her hair was wet, stuck to her forward in places, but heavy and long falling down the middle of her back. She pointed to the humanities section.

"We can hide in the bathroom!"

Jake nodded and she ran out ahead of him. He grabbed her hand before she could get out of reach. Better safe than sorry. And her power could help out if anything else happened on the way over.

o0o

It was quiet in the women's bathroom. Huddled together in a single stall,Jake sat on the toilet and the girl sat at his side on the tank, her feet on his legs.

"My name is, Jake."

"Jennifer." She wiped the water and hair from her face, orange nails matched her sweater. "I'm not as powerful as you think." From her pocket she pulled a charm.

Jake looked at the object. It was a Sway, or at least similar, a blue satchel with a stitched symbol on the front that he wasn't familiar with.

"It's a Stitch, or at least that what they call it. The group, or Seed, as they call themselves, realized I was a Witch before I knew anything about it. They brought me into the group and then you showed up. They said I had to kill you, and lent me the power to do so."

Jake stood up. "How did they know who I was? That I'm a Witch."

"They know, as I do, that you're a Hunter. They killed the one that came before. But they were sacred of you. You have power, the other one didn't."

She was about his age, probably a junior in high school. That was when he discovered his power and Jake wondered if it was a common age to find out.

"I've watched you. Seen you at the top of the theater at night. With the Stitch, I can somehow see your light, a blue haze that...Well anyway I've been watching. I don't think that you deserve to die, or anyone for that matter."

"There was someone else before me?" Jake asked. Isaac hadn't said anything about another Hunter. In fact this area hadn't been scouted as far as Isaac was concerned.

"An older man. He was a substitute teacher at the high school, and then Assistant Principle. The librarian killed him before he could settle in permanently."

Jake didn't know what to do with that information. "You're sure he was a Hunter?"

She nodded and chewed a nail.

Both of them sat for a moment in near silence. The rain and wind could still be heard, but it was quieter here, and Jake hoped a few more moments would be allowed in order to catch his breath.

"Where did it happen?"

She looked at him.

"Where did they kill him?" Jake got more specific. "The Hunter?" He kept his voice low.

"Out at the librarians place. We use the barn for spellwork."

Jake stood up. "You're sure? Can you show me?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I was there."


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from anything within the Secret Circle universe._

Wind: Part III

Jake didn't feel hopeful about Jennifer's assistance. He followed her out of the library, she guided them out the back, through an employee entrance. The wind hadn't seemed to disturb things as much here, in fact the employee break room was intact; chairs silently waiting to be used around a table with a fall covered motif.

There was something about the strange girl. Jake wondered if the Stitch she carried, as she called it, was bringing on the feeling. She had power, he was sure of it, but he wasn't sure how much. That Stitch thrummed with an unseen pulse. Jake wanted it.

"You thirsty?" Jake asked her. He crossed the break room jogging toward some vending machines.

"Yes, but there's no pow..."

Jake wobbled one of the soda machines and it teetered for a moment then slowly dipped toward the shiny white floor. Glass shattered, and cans split their contents, and coins rolled across the floor. Jake grabbed a few cans and put them in his dark jacket, then took a few more, one for him and for Jennifer.

"Not really a pop drinker." Jennifer said, but pointed at one of the lemon lime variety.

Jake handed it to her. "Pop. Where I'm from its Soda." He smiled.

"Where's that?" Jennifer asked. She looked down at him and purposely caught his eye.

That was his fault, Jake had left the door open for that question. He popped open the can, and took a long drink of the dark bubbly cola. It burned his throat and he coughed against the surprise.

"The south. Texas." he wiped his mouth. "We need to get out of here." He finished the can and through it down with the rest of the mess he had made.

0O0

By the time they were a block from the Odina Public Library, the weather was returning to what Jake had become to recognize as a normal evening for the prairie around the small town. Rain still sputtered from a cloud heavy sky, but the last failings of day were glowing orange and pink in the west. A beautiful cap on a frightening day. Tornadoes, killer witches...a library; Horrific all the way around.

"My car is right over there." Jennifer pointed to a little sporty two door blue American car. Across its hood were branches and as they got closer they could see that the drivers side was covered in mud. Other cars parked on the main street had the same pattern of damage, one lost a windshield and a convertibles top had been shredded allowing trees and mud to fill its leather innards.

"How far is this place?" Jake asked.

Once in the car Jennifer cranked the engine to life. Jakes eyes bloomed as he felt the roar of a lion beneath his seat. "My dad races stock cars, he likes to rod out ours, my mom hates it." She answered his unasked question. With that she threw down the chrome ball shifter and feathered the gas. The small car jumped at her slight pressure, Jake felt the push and the spin of the tires under him as though the earth had shifted. "Shouldn't take more than a few minutes, hang on."

Two figures standing amongst the downed tree limbs, leaves, and stone in the middle of Odina's main street watched Jennifer's blue car screech and swing. The car was heading west. _Funny_, the shorter one of the two thought. _All things eventually head west_. . She took the hand of her taller companion and the two began to chant.

0o0

"I want you to know that I had nothing to do with it."

"And that means what?" Jake asked Jennifer. Was he supposed to believe that? Isaac had drilled into him that he was never to trust anyone. Whatever this girl thought, whatever her motivations were for helping him - Jake couldn't allow her to pull his decisions toward a goal that she had predetermined.

_"Use who you need, remember that everyone is a tool in getting you toward your goal." _Isaac's voice came to mind. He would say to follow this out, to allow the girl to think she had him, let her think that she had gained his trust.

"I don't know what I'm doing. The Seed told me that Hunters were the enemy. But what they did...what we did to Mr. Cartill...he didn't deserve that." Her lips clenched and she gripped the stirring wheel. "I didn't mean for it to happen. You have to believe me! Before I knew what was happening, before I knew what I was the Seed had changed what I could do."

"Look Jennifer,' Jake rolled down the window, the cool air and light rain refreshing his senses. "I don't know what happened, but this is why the Hunters are important. I didn't know why I was sent here, but know that I am here I'm going to help you. If you're one of the good guys you have nothing to fear from the Hunters." Jake couldn't look at her when he said the last words. He was guilty of the same sin the Seed had perpetrated against the girl; using her naiveté against her.

He turned back to her and gave her a smile.

"Maybe you should hold on to this." She bobbed her head and took the Stitch from around her neck. She put it on the seat between them.

Jake could see now that the pattern stitched into the blue fabric was a bind-rune; a series of runes jumbled into one pattern. He wasn't familiar enough with runes to understand that pattern or even what runes made up it's whole.

"Do you know it's purpose?" He didn't want to touch it.

"They didn't tell me. But I think it's a kind of focus, it makes me stronger, my power is greater."

"Yeah, I noticed. Your power is stronger than I've seen before."

"Have you known a lot of witches?" Jennifer's hair was blowing behind her.

"A few." Jake wasn't sure how much he wanted to say. _A little truth goes a long way, _Ethan's voice again. "My parents." He looked out the window, the flat green prairie grass endless to the horizon in every direction but for a white farm house here and there out in the distance. The simple two lane highway was theirs alone.

Jennifer shifted her eyes steady on the road. " Is that how it usually is? The parents are witches?"

"Usually,' Jake looked at her. She really was naive. That kind of thing usually drew Jake in like a bee to honey. "You don't know. If your parents are, I mean."

"No. I guess I never thought to ask. I just wanted to hide it."

"You should. It may be helpful one day."

0o0

The farm was midwestern to the teeth. A two story white house sat to the left of a large red barn and two other small buildings, rusted and ill used machinery once used to turn the ground sat dead and forgotten. A gravel road led up to the home and other trails forked out to the barn and beyond, dirt rivers cutting the tall green wild grass.

"I expected something,' Jake paused. "Darker, I guess." He got out of the car.

Jennifer had pulled the car around the back of the barn so it would be hidden from the road. "Those trees are where he's buried."

Suddenly it did seem darker. Jennifer pointed toward a grouping of thick trees; Jake knew that they had been planted, probably a hundred years ago, to keep the strong prairie winds from lifting the seeds and soil. The line of trees went off in either direction for a mile at least and were so thick that the darkening sky couldn't be seen through them.

"Most of our spell-work is done in the barn." Jennifer turned toward the trees.

"Where are you going?" Jake stopped her. "I want to take a look,' he pointed at the barn, then not waiting he began walking toward it.

"If they get here, and I'm sure they know were here, we won't have alot of time, Jake."

She was right. He couldn't risk not finding the body, or at least verifying Jennifer's story. If a Hunter was killed here retribution by the organization would be swift. No witch would be left alive in Odina. And if he guessed right the Seed knew that as well. They would be hell bent to prevent him from finding the truth. Now may be his only chance.

Jennifer took the lead through the tall grass. The hundred yards from the barn to the trees was thick wild grass bright green from the recent wash of rain, the path they walked was well worn, black earth easily seen and exposed. He wondered, while watching Jennifer, why the girl hadn't come to him sooner. If she was so frightened by the group, terrified of their power and what they had done...killing a Hunter, or anyone, is nothing to take lightly...why hadn't she came to the theater? Better yet, why hadn't Ethan told him that a Hunter was missing? Certainly the group knew that the possibility of witches of being in Odina was high if one of their investigators had been lost.

Jennifer ducked under thick branches, moving dense foliage out of her way. "Just through here."

Jake followed. The trail was still there, but the trees made it difficult to move, branches stuck out at his clothes snagging his hair and causing him to stubble more than once. Jennifer was able to slide more easily among the trees and brush, Jake tried to mimic her steps around the natural obstacles but couldn't get it right for some reason.

It wasn't long before Jennifer stopped. Jake came up beside her. A small clearing, just wide enough for maybe two more people to stand held a small mound of black dirt. Atop it's small rise grass had begun to grow and twigs had been thrown across it, but it was easy to see that the ground had been disturbed by unnatural means.

Jennifer sat on her knees and Jake kneeled down. "Was he buried with all his stuff?"

Jennifer nodded.

"How long ago?" Jake asked.

"It's been probably a month." She answered. Jennifer began to sob, her nose ran, her hand went to her mouth. "I killed him...it was my fault. I brought him out here, to the barn, and..."

"I don't think it was your fault, Jennifer. Those witches made you do it."

He didn't know what else to say. Jake felt that he hadn't all the answers to what had happened, but somehow he felt that Jennifer was being truthful.

"What are you doing?"

Jake had begun to dig into the settled soil. He tore into the dirt pulling away junks, hands muddy. He ignored her and worked at the ground. Clumps came up and before long he had exposed white fabric.

"I'm going to get his walet,' Jake said rubbing the sweat from his face with his forearm. He soon had an arm exposed then began working away the dirt alongside it, hoping to get at the side of his leg. The night had settled quickly into the small clearing and neither of them had a light.

"Is there a light in the barn?" Jake asked. "I can't see."

A light pierced the dark, Jennifer watched it slide across the clearing.

"They're here." Jennifer said.


	4. Chapter 4

"Here, take it." Jake lifted the Stitch to Jennifer. The lights of the car turned off, and the dark returned. She took it from him.

"Lock them in,' he looked to the barn where the lights had originated. "Use it now, and keep them inside until I find what I need." He didn't force his anger away now and could feel it on his face like a mask. They had killed a Hunter, better that they were locked up.

Jennifer said it was done after only the briefest of looks toward the path in the trees.

Jake set into the dirt again, his eyes adjusted to the dark after the shock of light. He put his anger into the work. Jennifer was part of the chaos around him, she was the reason he was digging in the mud, the reason his gut was twisted with the knots of...What? Why was he so mad? He didn't know this guy in the ground. Why would Isaac have sent him here? They had to have known a Hunter was missing...that he hadn't reported anything in a month...that witches had killed him. Even with all the protections a Hunter has; witches had killed him. Why hadn't they told him?

Had Isaac planned this?

Rain began to fall again as Jake finally got into the man's pockets. His hands were black with mud when he brought out the thick wallet. The rain and mud kept the stink of the body to a minimum; Jake hoped the thick muck would keep it from his hands. Had he made a mistake offering to help the Hunters...would this get him closer to those who killed his parents?

The brutality of the situation hovered over him like a missile.

"Jake? Jake?" Jennifer shook his shoulder. "We need to get out of here."

After. After this is done he would...He would what? He was in this, he was a Hunter and he was a witch. He couldn't be on both sides. Jennifer was the witch who had killed this Hunter. He looked down at the wallet, the single piece of folded leather that would always smell like its rotting owner.

"Jake!?"

With wet cold hands he opened the wallet. Cards fell out of their slots; cash was in the main pocket...no family pictures that would give away his identity. A picture - a Minnesota driver's license.

"Jake!? Damnit Jake!" Jennifer put both hands on him and shook him. Her hands quickly left and she screamed.

The small odd woman from the library had entered the clearing. Her eyes seemed to reflect what little light the dark owned as though she pulled it toward her making the night blacker. "Jake, is it?" she said and dropped the hand she had used to magically swipe Jennifer from her feet.

The woman's long hair was wet and swept behind her; she was weaving her hands in broad circles and reciting soft words.

Jake rolled from where he was kneeling and fell into Jennifer. She was getting onto her side; he grabbed her and told her to follow his lead.

"My power our focus

Will and might, strength to us!

Before me cower and fall

What's yours, to me, we call!"

Jake began the chant and by the second time through Jennifer was able to join in. He closed her hand around the Stitch and wondered if it had the power he thought. The small woman weaved her own will, her own spell and Jake hoped that the Stitch would achieve what he hoped.

The small woman walked closer to them, with each step Jake felt his chest thump, a funny painful pattering inside. Something was happening to him. Jennifer heaved as though she was going to vomit. Jake forced the chant to continue...He wondered what happened when magic crossed. Was the more powerful witch going to win out?

Jake kept the chant going; he felt the Stitch heat up within Jennifer's hand. He looked her in the eyes, and willed her to continue. A crack in Jake's side made him slump and yell, but he continued. This bitch was going to get hers even if she broke every rib in his body.

That's what it was; a rib popping, his breath was short and the words were difficult. The stabbing inner pain grew and he went to the ground still holding Jennifer's hand.

Then it happened. The old witch screamed. Jake heard another pop, but this time it wasn't him. The witches fingers began to twist over onto one another followed by her arms - they swooped strangely around until they were tied up into each other. Bones jutted out from her bloody sleeves, and she fell in the mud, onto the half buried body of the Hunter. Jennifer kept chanting and Jake knew that the Stitch was indeed a focus, a tool to pull power from a witch.

"Holy crap!" Jennifer said. She bent down to Jake and helped him up.

"Can you take their power? From here?" Jake asked her.

She shook her head, "I'm not sure."

"They'll kill us, Jennifer. If not both of us then they'll make you kill me." Except, Jake thought, if that happens I won't go without a fight. He gripped his side; he could feel the fallen rib. He couldn't fully stand, but leaned to the side. Had she broken more than one? "Try!"

They chanted again. Four times the chant was sung, then five. "No, it's not working." Jennifer said.

"Come on! Let's clean this up." Jake grunted.

o0o

The car was empty, both of the front windows were broken, glass on the ground.

"They must be in the barn." Jennifer offered.

"Let's go." Jake said.

"What do you mean?"

"Go in, and say the short old lady killed me...or you killed me. Either way..."

A shotgun blast shredded what calm they had unknowingly been enjoying.

"Let's have the Stitch, Jennifer." The bald guy from the library pushed up his overly large glasses and pointed the gun back down at Jennifer. "And no chanting. Where's Wilma?"

"She's in the woods with Mr. Hunter." Jake said. "What's with the gun? Kind of old school isn't it?"

"Jennifer, come over here with the Stitch." The librarian, Mrs. Erickson, was now by the man's side. Both of them stood near the rear of the barn.

"Don't do it Jennifer." Jake said. "I have a feeling that you're friends aren't real..."

"Oh we're witches, Jake," the man said spitting out his name with a vile crunch. "Maybe Mr. Hunter needs a friend."

The man began to walk toward his two captives, the gun bouncing in his hands. The librarian followed, her gray premed hair bright in the night, she tripped, her heels catching on an unseen rock. From out of her blouse a pentacle swung on a silver chain as her hands and knees broke her fall.

"What, did Wilma promise you guy's real power? Jennifer's power?" Jake was tired and he wondered if he had it right. Wilma was undoubtedly a powerhouse of witchcraft...but maybe she needed help roping Jennifer into the mix. Who better to help steal Jennifer's power than a bunch of play witches hungry for real magic? Was the Stitch meant to give even Mundanes power, like a battery?

"The Stitch Jennifer, and we'll let you live. I'll even get Mrs. Williams to give you all A's this semester." The librarian was doling out favors. "Just give it to me; you have enough power to spare. We don't need alot." She held out her hand.

Jennifer took it from her pocket. Jake thought it was a different color; the blue fabric was now purple. Had the old witches' power changed it? Jennifer held it out to them.

What could he do? Wasn't there some last minute hero thing he could pull out to save the day? Jake was realizing all too quickly that maybe he wasn't supposed to be a hero. He was a Hunter. A killer if needed, a killer of witches.

Jennifer handed it over, and Jake watched them take it. He watched the librarian hunger for it with her eyes, no doubt the power was crawling into her flesh. Jake snuck his hand into Jennifer's. The librarian offered it over to the man with the gun. A smile crossed his face and his teeth showed bigger than fingers.

"Wilma's dead you know." Jake said.

"And?" The man responded, keeping an eye on Jennifer's hand in Jakes

"Don't you know what happens when a witch dies?" Jake clutched his side with one hand and began to squeeze Jennifer's tighter.

The man focused more intently on Jake, the rain spotting his glasses. "Yeah. I do. What?"

"Witches come seeking the power she once held. The left overs. Dark witches who scavenge for power like hungry wolves." Jake turned as much as he could to look down the road that led into the farm. "They may even be coming now."

When Jake faced the two again, the man saw only a red can of soda coming at him. Jake pulled Jennifer down, and the gun went off. Jake's ears rang. Jennifer's hand went limp and pulled away from his grip.

She had been shot.

Jake ran at the man. The gun in his hands became Jake's in a single movement. He clubbed the man into unconsciousness while the librarian ran toward the barn.

"Stop and still

You are trapped by my will!"

Three times the chant was said and Jake stopped the librarian, she was frozen. The Stitch was in her hand. Jake walked up to her. He was the Hunter, the witch killer. Even though she was caught in his spell, she shook, and her left eye twitched. Her fear was all around her, in every inch of her.

Jake lifted the Stitch from her hand. He closed his eyes and was about to rip it.

"Don't, it can be used for such wonders...It's older than..."

Jake finally knew why he had been brought to Odina. It was like holding a jackhammer; it wobbled and echoed with magic, with the promise of never needing or wanting anything.

"You stay there, witch." Jake said. He knelt at Jennifer's side and laid the Stitch upon her belly. Her flesh was roughed up and full of raised flesh. A million pellets had shredded her orange and black sweater and hundreds more her pale stomach. The Stitch was instantly red with blood.

Jake pressed it into her, she screamed. "Heal. Heal. Heal. Heal." He whispered it, not knowing a chant that would help in such an instance, not knowing if flesh could be repaired or if shrapnel removed. Could so much be renewed.

"Heal. Heal." Jennifer added her whisper to his. "Help...Heal and help, power that is...Magic in me. Heal." Her words became a plea.

Jake kept it going, Jennifer added more words….they became incoherent and dull, her eyes closed.

o0o

The restaurant was busy for a Monday, but then again Minneapolis was a large city. Jake got up from the table and went into the bathroom. It was empty; he went into the middle stall.

"Murder at the Erickson farm," was all he said. The dispatcher on the other side of the phone seemed suspicious of his call, but he didn't stay on to convince her.

Isaac would be interested to hear how the witch had died. But Jake had a feeling Isaac would be even more interested in the Stitch that was destroyed in the barn fire. Those things happen in the Midwest.

The girl had saved his life. Jennifer.

He couldn't save hers. Somewhere a witch was owed a favor.


End file.
